Mythical Monster You Never Knew You Wanted

The Devil himself

      "Dario! Dario get back here!"

     The motion light on the porch flicked on as a man flung the door open and hauled a duffle bag out on his way out the door. A woman followed, looking furious!

     "Is this really what you are going to keep doing!? Keep running! When things get to hard you just take off! God forbid you take any responsibility for your actions! Are you even listening to me!?"

     No! I'm not!! In fact, I haven't been listening in days! It's all the same shit! You talk on repeat!  Like a god awful skipping record! All of my shortcomings on and endless loop! Ruddy hell woman! Would you please, for once in your life, shut the fuck up!" The man yelled, throwing his bag in a vehicle and turning to face the woman.

     She slapped him, the sound echoing down the dark suburban street. "Fuck you." She hissed through clenched teeth. "You are lazy and ungrateful and a total fucking loser. In a few months you'll be back at dad's door step," She pointed to the porch behind them. "And I'll take you back, again. You'll help with dad for at little while before it grows tedious and then you'll leave us, again!" She gave him a hard shove in his chest, pushing him back a few steps. "Here." She pulled bills out of her pocket and threw that at him, the bits a paper fluttering to the ground. "Don't say I never did anything for you."

     With that she turned and stomped back into the house, slamming the door shut. Dario looked around at the suddenly quite suburb. The neighbors were all peaking out of their net curtains. He picked up the bills and slammed the car door shut before peeling out of the car park.

      He slammed his fist on the steering wheel, frustrated and angry. What the hell did she know anyway! Her and the old man! She had always been daddies little princess! And what was he? He the the product of an affair that caused a divorce. Why should he take care of that grimy old bastard when  he'd done nothing but make Dario's life hell? He'd never thought of him as his son. He needed a drink.

     "Oh, what a sad face." Dario looked up from his pint to see a man pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down.

     He was lean, his hair long and unnaturally red.  It hung sleek and clean onto his black leather clad chest. His face was clean shaven and wickedly handsome, his lips curved in a clever smile.

      "Why so blue?" He asked, crossing his legs and lighting a cigar.

   "Why in hell would I tell you?" Dario asked rudely.

     The stranger tsked, shaking his head and blowing smoke rings above Dario's head. "Manners love, I am your elder. It's just a shame to see a face like yours so twisted in pain and...wrath." He said, sharp yellow-green eyes flashing.

     "Elder? Well, grandpa, your age aside, it's still none of your business." Dario looked him up and down quickly as he cooed his drink order to a passing waitress. He wasn't older, not much younger, but definitely not older.

     "My eyes are up here." He said sweetly and Dario flushed, realizing he'd been staring too long.

     "Sod off." Dario spat.

     "Ow, you've wounded me." The other said, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. "Is that anyway to speak to a man that's about to offer you an opportunity to fulfill your wildest dreams."

     "I don't fuck prostitutes."

      The man howled in raucous laughter, pounding his fist on the table and wiping his his eyes. "That's quite a shame really, helps the local economy. But no, that's not what I am offering you. How would you like to never have to crawl back to your father's door ever again?"